The Delightfully Unforeseen and the Sadly Predictable
by Auntie Shred
Summary: Something Bobby never knew about Eames. Short story set in season 6, just before War At Home. Goren's POV.
1. Not funny

**Setting: Season 6 (shortly before War at Home)**

**Spoiler: Tiniest of spoilers for Masquerade, Siren Call**

**DISCLAIMER: The Law & Order characters are owned by Dick Wolf. No infringement of rights is intended. This story is written for entertainment purposes only.**

* * *

To his surprise, as the elevator doors opened on the eleventh floor, Bobby Goren heard laughter. His partner, Alex Eames, glanced up at him – she was amused and curious. The detectives and staff of Major Case got along well, but they generally kept a serious work atmosphere. Joking and laughter in the squad room were unusual.

"I bet Captain Ross is out," Eames said. "They don't know him well enough yet to cut loose like that."

Bobby shook his head. "No bet." She was probably right. Ross had only been in Major Case for a few months. Bobby wondered when the captain would warm up and show some trust.

"Wonder what we missed?" she said.

They were returning from the District Attorney's office, where they'd signed off paperwork on a recent case. It was a raw, wet day; the large umbrella Bobby held was still dripping. As they rounded the corner into the squad room, he looked across to the captain's office - sure enough, it was unlit and empty.

A few detectives were standing near or sitting on the paired desks of Detectives Solinski and Marzin, and the rest of the squad seemed to have their attention focused there as well. Some heads turned guiltily, but when they saw him and Eames they relaxed. Bobby guessed they were gossiping.

"You were right," Bobby said to Eames as he dropped his binder on his desk. She hung up her coat, and moved aside for him to lean the umbrella against the gun locker.

"I bet Goren could help you out, John!" Detective Marzin called.

"Here we go," muttered Eames, deliberately turning her back on the boisterous group.

Bobby removed his coat as he turned toward Marzin and the others. He smiled, but didn't reply. What were they talking about? John Solinski looked embarrassed, but not annoyed. The women were hanging back at the edge of the group; Bobby knew some who wouldn't be present if the topic was too raunchy.

Logan called, "Goren, take my advice and get the hell out while you can!"

More laughter.

Marzin said, "We're trying to do Solinski a favor here, but you're looking at lame bunch of losers."

Marzin's comment prompted some cheerful insults, including a quick snort of laughter from Eames, who'd opened her laptop and was typing away as though she was hard at work. Bobby still had no idea what they were talking about.

"No, come on, guys!" Marzin said, spreading his hands wide. "Goren, don't you have a little black book to fix John up with someone? He needs a date for a wedding next weekend."

"Don't keep them all to yourself, Goren!" another detective called.

A wedding date - that explained why the women were keeping their distance. Bobby wished the captain would choose this moment to return. He didn't let his expression change as he observed Solinski, a man in his late thirties. He was a decent-looking guy, and Bobby recalled hearing him talk about a girlfriend. Why on earth would he subject himself to this embarrassment?

And why did anyone think Bobby could help? It had been a long time since he kept anything remotely resembling a little black book. These days all his personal calls were to his mother or her doctor – did they think he spent that phone time setting up dates with scores of women?

He darted a quick glance at Eames; she kept her eyes on her computer screen, but she was grimacing and shaking her head. She must know that the last time he had dinner with a woman – besides her or his mother, that is – was when he'd used the occasion to interview Beth Harner about her daughter's murder. That definitely did not count as a date – he'd been alone with Beth only because his partner deserted him at the doorstep.

Bobby slowly sat down and leaned back in his chair. He wasn't going to offer any personal information. "I thought you had a girlfriend, Solinski."

Logan groaned. "This is where we came in, Wheeler. Don't we have witnesses to interview?" He rose and jingled the car keys.

Wheeler reached for her jacket and umbrella. "In Connecticut, I hope."

Solinski replied to Bobby. "We broke up a couple months ago."

"Go alone," Bobby said. "Or don't go at all."

As Logan passed, he whispered, "Almost makes you wish for a crime spree – anything to get you out of here." Eames looked up at him, arching her eyebrows, and they shared a grin.

"I have to go - it's family," Solinski replied, sighing. "My sister's daughter is getting married, and my mother expects..."

Marzin laughed. "He didn't tell Mommy he broke up. Hey, Eames, maybe you could-"

In an instant Eames was pointing her finger at Marzin. "Maybe you could leave me out of this!" She didn't raise her voice, but the intensity was unmistakable. Bobby turned his attention to his partner. Marzin had struck a nerve with her. Up till that moment she'd been enjoying the joke as much as anyone in the room.

Logan's voice carried from the elevators. "Captain Ross! We're just on our way out to a witness interview."

Everyone instantly shifted into work-like poses. The detectives at Marzin's and Solinski's desks snatched up papers, and others lifted phones to their ears, so that when Ross entered the area it looked and sounded like the usual mid-afternoon busy squad room.

Bobby was facing away from the entry so he couldn't tell if the captain noticed anything different. Bobby was certain he would have sensed the sudden change in the sound level. Everyone had been staring at Eames or Marzin when Ross's elevator opened, and now they were trying to behave normally.

Ross stopped beside Eames's desk. "Everything okay here?"

She pushed her hair behind her ear and nodded. "Yes, sir. We just got back from the DA's office."

"Right. The ADA was going to send me a copy of Simon Fife's latest competency request," Ross said. "Did you...?"

Bobby opened his binder. "I have it here." He offered a large envelope to the captain.

"Okay, thanks." Ross headed for his office, and as he passed Marzin and Solinski he paused and said, "Try and keep it down to a roar, Detectives."

So the captain had noticed! Bobby glanced at Eames. She shook her head and returned to her computer, avoiding further eye contact with Bobby.

* * *

Half an hour later Detective Marzin approached Bobby and Eames.

"We've got witnesses coming in at four-thirty," Marzin said. "Any chance we could have that room?" He pointed to the visitor office Bobby and Eames had been using to organize research for their investigation. The walls were decorated with maps and photos, and the table was covered with books and papers.

"Sure," Bobby answered. "We don't need it any more. Right, Eames?"

She stood. "I'll get a couple boxes and we can pack up our stuff."

"Look, I, umm," Marzin said, "I didn't mean to embarrass anyone – well, except for John, of course. But I was just, you know, just kidding. Okay?" He looked back and forth between the partners.

"No problem," Bobby said, shrugging.

Marzin's teasing words earlier hadn't been offensive; it was unusual that he felt the need to apologize. Bobby looked at his partner. She was staring down at her desk.

"Eames?" Bobby said.

She nodded her head. "Yeah, no problem, Eddie. I'll get those boxes." She was gone before either man could have replied. Marzin walked off in the other direction.

Bobby's curiosity was kindled. The apology had obviously been directed at Eames – why? In his mind he replayed the conversation from earlier. What had set her off?

"Coming?" Eames had returned with two empty file boxes. She lightly bounced one of them against Bobby's arm as she passed him on her way to the visitor office.

They worked quietly, and in ten minutes the room was clean. Bobby tried several times to catch her eye, but she avoided him, becoming more and more restless. When they were done, he closed the door to keep her from leaving, and then stood there, gazing at her until she finally looked squarely at him.

"What!" she said, forcefully shoving down the lid of the box. "What is your problem?"

Bobby didn't flinch. "You're angry."

"Keen observation."

"Is it because of Marzin?"

Her only response was to cross her arms over her chest.

"Eames, it's... it was a little embarrassing for Solinski," Bobby said, "but he obviously told Marzin he needed a date – he opened himself up for it."

"It's not that." She wouldn't meet his eye.

"Then what?" he asked, not sure if her irritation was about weddings or blind dates or Marzin. "I mean, if I needed a date for a wedding, I might, um, I might ask..."

"You might ask me?" she said, and her piercing glare told Bobby he'd touched a sore spot. "And just whose wedding are you talking about? Did you get an engraved invitation?"

He'd been trying to lighten the mood, but now she was angry again. He had no idea how to respond.

"Look, I'm sorry," Eames said. "You didn't... I just..." She dodged around Bobby and out the door.


	2. Not off limits

"See you tomorrow," Bobby said. He watched Eames as she buttoned up her coat at the end of the day. "Looks like the rain stopped."

She hadn't given him another opportunity to ask about her reaction to Detective Marzin. Actually, Bobby hadn't tried - he decided to let the issue sit on the back burner until she was less irritated. Or maybe it was best to drop it completely.

Instead of darting away as he'd expected, Eames paused beside his desk. "Let's go eat," she said. "Come on – you don't need to be here."

He gazed at her for a few moments, and then rose. "Okay, sure."

They were quiet in the elevator down to the parking garage, although they had the compartment to themselves. They rode in her car, and she headed over the Brooklyn Bridge. Bobby didn't ask where they were going - he didn't particularly care. He could tell Eames was getting ready to talk to him, and he was content to wait.

She finally broke the silence. "You know I'm not mad at you, right?" she said, giving him a quick glance before looking back at the road.

Bobby knew, but to hear her say the words gave him a rush of warmth and relief. "I know. Was it because Marzin wanted you to set up Solinski?"

"No, see, that wasn't what he was suggesting," she said, sounding ticked off again. "He, umm... A couple years ago Solinski asked me out."

"Asked you out – on a date?" Bobby felt his heartbeat speed up.

"What other kind of asking out is there? Yes, on a date - and no, I didn't go. But I kind of let him down easy..."

"Let him down easy?" He half turned in his seat, looking at her attentively.

"Yeah." She kept her eyes on the road. "He wasn't a jerk about it, and I didn't want to be nasty, so I made an excuse about seeing someone else."

"You were seeing someone else?"

Eames laughed. "Geez, Bobby! Stop repeating everything I say, will you? Look, Solinski wasn't the problem – he got the message. The problem was that Marzin found out about it."

"And he was a jerk about it," Bobby said. Marzin was blunt and nosey, which worked well for him as a detective, but not so much as a person. "So today... you thought Marzin was going to suggest you go to the wedding with Solinski?"

"Yeah. I didn't want him saying anything in front of the whole squad room. I guess he figured that out, since he apologized."

"Or maybe Solinski said something to him."

"Whatever it takes."

They were silent again for a while. Bobby tried to comprehend Eames's revelation that she'd been asked out by an MCS detective. How had he completely missed that? This was a view onto a side of her he'd never anticipated.

"Eames?" he said. "Was, uh, was that the real reason you turned him down? Solinski, I mean. Were you seeing someone else?" She gave him a sharp look, but he didn't back down. "Or was it because you work with him?"

Eames finally sighed, and even grinned. "Neither. I just don't like him enough. I need at least a little chemistry, you know? But like I said, he got the message, and there was no problem."

Bobby mulled over her reply, and was once again floored. She didn't object to dating a co-worker - on principle, at least. That was a complete surprise. Had she dated anybody else in the squad room? Anybody at One PP? He wondered why that possibility was unsettling.

Eames added, "And besides, the thought of attending a family wedding... it's the absolute worst place for a first date."

"Why?"

"Are you serious? I mean, you know only one person there, and unless you're twenty-three, it's – wait. Have you been to a wedding?"

"Yes," Bobby replied. "When I was stationed in Germany an Army buddy got married."

"Uh-huh, and what was it like?"

"They got married in a church, and after the ceremony we all went out to a beer garden."

Eames chuckled. "Let me tell you, Solinski's niece's wedding is going to be a hundred times more complicated than that, and I'm not just talking about flowers and ring-bearers and caterers. Whoever he brings is going to be analyzed by his whole family up one side and down the other. If he shows up alone he'll get the same treatment."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. When my nieces and nephews get married I hope they all elope."

* * *

Eames chose a restaurant they'd been to several times before. It was in Brooklyn – not close to Bobby's apartment, but close to a subway line that would take him home quickly.

As she parked on the street, the rain started again.

"Good thing you brought the umbrella," she said, but she didn't wait for him to come around the car for her. She jumped out and met him on the sidewalk as he opened the umbrella.

"Eames, I would have-" Bobby began.

"I know, but it's not raining that hard," she said. She stayed close as they walked the few blocks to the restaurant.

Bobby wasn't sure if she was done with the subject of dating, but he hoped not. The idea that she would consider going out with a co-worker had truly amazed him. He'd always assumed she kept work life and personal life strictly separated. He did, of course – but he hadn't had much of a personal life lately.

He waited until they were seated and gave their orders to the waitress.

Bobby fidgeted with the silverware. "I, um..."

"I knew you couldn't resist for long."

He looked up – she was grinning at him in amusement. Her earlier anger was gone, and she seemed at ease. "Go ahead," she said. "Ask away. I reserve the right not to answer if I don't want to."

Now that Bobby had her permission, he wasn't sure where to start. He took a minute to consider what he wanted to know first.

"Wow," she said, smiling even more broadly. "You're not usually at a loss for questions."

He returned her smile. She was right. He decided to try a hypothetical question, and see which direction they went with it.

"Okay," he said, sitting up a little straighter. "Suppose your niece gets married, and there's a big wedding. Would you consider bringing me as your date?"

"Well..." She rubbed a finger along her jaw as she thought. "First off, I like you too much to put you through an Eames family wedding. Even the open bar doesn't make up for being in a fishbowl."

Her answer skirted the question, so he tried again.

"But if – not necessarily a wedding. If you did need someone..."

"You mean if I needed a date for... what, opening night gala at the opera? Cocktails with the royal family? Sure, I'd ask you." She was looking right into his eyes. "I actually have a formal dress, but there's not much use for it these days."

"I'd have to rent a tux," he said.

She shook her head. "I like your black suit – that would do fine."

Bobby wondered if they were still talking theoretically. "I wouldn't call you Eames. I'd call you Alex."

"That's good – but you know, you could try that any time."

"You said you would have gone out with Solinski if – if you felt chemistry."

She nodded, then shrugged.

He took a deep breath. "Do you think we have chemistry?" he asked, waving a finger back and forth between them.

"Tons – we'd never be such great partners if we didn't." She sipped her water.

Bobby was amazed that Alex could remain so completely calm. He was a little light-headed – it felt like trying to walk on the deck of a boat in choppy water. He looked away from her to try and regain his equilibrium. Were they talking about dating each other, or was he misunderstanding this whole conversation?

"Bobby," she said, "that's not really a surprise to you, is it? It's just that you never let yourself think about the personal kind of chemistry between us, isn't it?"

He scratched his neck. "No, because... because..."

"Of course, to be fair," she continued, "I didn't let myself think about it, either. But why are you thinking about it now? Is it because I told you Solinski asked me out a long time ago?"

She'd hit the nail on the head - that was the piece of information Bobby had mentally stumbled over. He'd always recognized his partner's attractiveness, but from the start of their partnership he'd pushed those feelings aside in favor of a successful working partnership. To realize now that she didn't acknowledge the same boundaries...

"Yeah," he said, "I guess that was... "

The waitress returned with their drinks – hot tea for Alex and iced tea for Bobby – giving him a few moments to rebalance mentally. This was not the time to focus on past situations. How did he want to move forward now? He knew that answer.

Alex was still a step ahead of him, however. As soon as the waitress left, Alex leaned forward, catching his eye. "Seriously, look at us. Look around you. Where are we right now?"

He wasn't sure how literally she was speaking, so he nodded a bit and continued looking at her.

"I mean it," she said. "Here we are, having dinner together, talking about our personal lives. We have a lot going for us already. For me, it means a lot – a lot! – to have someone who understands me, someone who has my back."

"Me, too." He took a long drink. "So, Alex..." It was gratifying to see her sweet smile. "I think we should work on our chemistry."

"Well, I did always get good grades in science," she replied.


	3. Not easy

The rain had stopped again by the time they left the restaurant and returned to her car. The wet sidewalks reflected the glare of streetlights.

"I could drive you home," Alex said. "It's no problem."

"The subway's just on the next block."

Bobby slowed his steps as they approached the car, and slipped his arm around Alex's back. He turned toward her, studying her face intently. Good – she was still smiling, and didn't look eager to leave. He leaned down to kiss her, and was delighted when she stretched up toward him. Her eyes closed as their lips met. If felt natural to kiss her – it felt wonderful.

Before long he felt her palms against his chest, very gently pushing him away. Bobby understood her caution. He didn't want to rush things, either. He withdrew, leaving his hand on her shoulder.

"Okay?" he asked, stroking his thumb along her neck and jaw.

"Mmm, nice," Alex said.

"Maybe we can do this again soon?" The words were barely out of his mouth when his cell phone rang.

She patted his chest. "Sure. In all that free time we have?"

"Sorry," he said, reaching into his pocket for the phone. He checked the ID display. "My mom. I guess I'd better..." He sighed. Reality had returned.

"Hey." She grasped his coat and tugged him closer for another kiss. "See you tomorrow, okay?"

* * *

Bobby tilted back in his chair and stared at the cup of coffee he'd placed on his partner's desk. Last night he'd expected to be awake for hours, wondering whether he'd gone too far or not far enough, and worrying that Eames would change her mind. However, even with all those concerns, he'd fallen asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

At the moment he was curious that he didn't feel guilty. He wanted to continue on this path with Eames, but it all depended on her reaction this morning: if she was withdrawn or touchy, it meant she'd decided they'd made a mistake. He didn't think it was a mistake – certainly not so far, anyway. He was hoping for an opportunity to kiss her again.

He was gazing blankly at her desk and chair when a small paper bag landed on top of his binder. He jerked out of his reverie. Eames stood at his side.

"I figured you'd bring coffee," she said, "so I stopped at the bakery near my house."

Bobby sniffed the bag. "Scones?"

"Got it in one," she said, slipping out of her coat. "They smelled so good I had to put them in the back seat – out of reach."

"Thanks." He took a deeper breath.

Eames tasted the coffee. "I need to warm this up." As she passed him on the way to the break room, she tapped his shoulder. "Thank you."

She returned in two minutes, and paused to select one of the scones from the pastry bag he offered to her. She sat down and sipped her hot coffee.

"Did I put in enough sugar?" Bobby asked.

Eames nodded. "Just right. It's nice to have someone who knows how I like my coffee." She met his eye and held his gaze for a long moment, then opened her laptop.

Bobby understood. She wasn't backing away from what they'd said and done last night – she was confirming it. He was her "someone".

He was still astounded how quickly and easily they'd stepped over the line. He wanted to talk about it, but Eames was already busy at her laptop, silently communicating that she was going to keep things professional at work. That felt right to him, too.

* * *

That morning Captain Ross assigned them to help Logan and Wheeler sort through a dozen evidence boxes, all full of papers taken from a suspect's home. The four detectives sat in a visitor office, looking for printed emails or handwritten notes between the suspect and his accomplices in a jewelry robbery and murder. Most of what they saw was useless.

Just before noon Logan got a phone call.

"Our guy's car turned up in a student parking lot at Fordham," Logan said as he hung up. He stood. "Call me if you find anything good."

"You owe us lunch!" Eames called as Logan and Wheeler left the room.

Bobby reached for the next box. "Logan likes lunch from food carts, you know."

"I'm picking the place," she said. "Wheeler told me about the dives Logan takes her to."

"I'll buy you lunch," he said, and added, "Alex."

"Oh, so we're back to that topic," she said, sounding severe – but her mischievous smile reassured Bobby. "We might have to work through lunch. Want to take me out to dinner?"

Once again, Bobby was overwhelmed by her easy acceptance of this new avenue in their relationship. "Sure - tonight?" But he suddenly remembered an obligation. "Oh, wait, how about, um..."

"Do you need to visit your mom?"

"Well, actually, her doctor."

Eames had continued scanning papers as they talked, but now she gave him her full attention. "How's she doing?"

After Bobby coincidentally revealed his mother's cancer to Eames during a suspect interview, Eames had been kind about it, but he knew she felt hurt. Since then he'd kept her a little more informed on the treatments his mom was going through.

"She's finished with radiation," Bobby said. "They can only do it so many times, and she's reached the limit."

"Did it help?"

He looked at his hands. "The doctor was upbeat about it."

"That's good, right?"

Bobby wasn't sure. Regardless of the doctor's report, his mother's response was rarely positive. These days Bobby always felt drained when he saw her. He got a knot in his chest even talking about his mother's cancer. Theoretically it was a treatable kind of cancer, but the term "cure rate" was ambiguous. For him, there were too many variables to be optimistic.

"The next step is chemo," he said, "but they have to wait a while after the radiation."

She nodded solemnly. "You need any help, let me know."

Bobby wished they could go back to talking about dating – but now he wasn't quite as confident as he'd been earlier in the morning. His mother's problems and needs had been a blight on many of his dating relationships. He didn't want it to happen with Eames as well. Nothing in his life was straightforward.

They returned to their task, checking each paper, box by box. Eames was the first to find what they were looking for. She exclaimed, "Got it: emails from BuffaloBill921. Here's one, two, three..." She handed the pages to Bobby as she counted up to eight. "They were planning the hit on Sharfman Jewelers. Look, he left the trail of replies on all the emails – not too smart, but very convenient for us."

"They're talking about fencing the diamonds," Bobby added. He pulled her evidence box toward himself. "Are there more?"

"Probably, but this may be enough. I'll send Logan a text," Eames said, reaching for her cell phone. "Lunch?"

Bobby was scanning emails, and took a second to grasp what she'd asked. He glanced out into the squad room, and then back to her. "Okay, we could... You mean, take you out to lunch?"

"Ahh," she replied, "maybe it's a good idea to keep it off-hours. We can go out tomorrow night, or whenever your schedule clears up."

"That's just it: with my mom, I don't really have a schedule. It's complicated." He needed her to be clear on the difficulties she'd be accepting along with him.

She finished sending the text and looked up. "What, you think I don't already know that?"

He sighed. "You do, but it's only going to get worse. Maybe we should just take it slow for now."

"Slow is fine, but wait a minute," she said, tapping the table. "Did we have dinner together yesterday?" She was frowning at him, although he knew she wasn't angry – just intense.

Bobby nodded.

She dropped her voice to a whisper and continued, "And did you kiss me good night?"

He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. He nodded again.

Eames continued, "You seemed pretty serious about us seeing each other. I know I was. That's what we were talking about, wasn't it?"

"Yes. I'm serious about it. I just don't want to make you promises I can't keep."

"I get that, Bobby. Believe me; I worry about messing you up with my problems, too."

He stared. What problems did Eames have?

She said, "Come on, you saw me after my sessions with the psychiatrist, and you know how irritable I get when I visit my dad if he's having a bad day – and I realize that hardly compares to what you're going through with your mother. I'm just saying we don't need to wait for everything to be perfect."

She had a good point. If they agreed there was chemistry between them, it was worth trying to make it work. He'd keep the situation with his mother separate as much as possible.

However, before he could reply, the door opened and Captain Ross stuck his head in. "Where did Logan and Wheeler go?" Ross asked.

"The Bronx," Eames said. "They left here half an hour ago." She checked the clock on the wall. "Make that forty minutes."

"Give them a call and have them detour to Jamaica," Ross said. "Their suspect was arrested trying to peddle some of the diamonds. He's locked up in the 103rd." He waved his arm over the boxes strewn about the room. "Anything useful here?"

Bobby nodded. "Yes: emails planning the robbery, and then discussing how to split up the take." He held up a handful of sheets.

"Keep going through it," the captain said. "See if there's anything about those earlier robberies – these guys seemed to know what they were doing when they hit Sharfman's." He closed the door as he left.

"What did you say about complicated?" Eames said, grinning as she reached for her cell phone. "There goes our lunch date."


	4. Not predictable

"I don't want to do it."

"I know," Bobby said, "but-"

"I'm not going to talk about it any more!"

"Okay, okay. We can -"

"Besides, I keep telling you I'm feeling better, so I don't see why I need it at all!"

He shifted the phone to his other ear and glanced across the restaurant at Alex. She smiled at him, which only made him feel guilty.

They'd just closed a murder case that had kept them running around the city for a week. Finally this morning they'd made an arrest and gotten a confession.

As soon as the paperwork was done and submitted Bobby had suggested they seize the moment and escape from MCS for their own private decompression. Alex eagerly agreed, though she'd insisted he pick her up at home to give her a chance to dress up.

At last they were out on a date - but this was the second time their dinner had been interrupted by a phone call from his mother. Each time he'd excused himself and threaded his way to the restroom area to take the call.

"Mom," he said, "I'm coming tomorrow, and I can talk to your doctors then."

"You tell them I'm not doing the chemo," she said.

"I'll be there tomorrow." He closed his phone and headed back to the table.

He was thankful Alex didn't ask how his mother was doing. There wasn't a good answer to that question. She felt slightly better because the radiation had been effective, and because the nausea-causing treatments had stopped, giving her body a chance to recover. However, that didn't necessarily mean she was cured.

"Sorry. That makes two," Bobby said as he slid into his seat.

"Two what?" Alex asked.

"Two times my mom called while we were... together." The muscles of his jaw ached from being in a tight, nervous clench.

"To be honest, I was half expecting we'd get called back in for some paperwork detail, so I'm kind of relieved it was your mom, unless... Is she feeling sick?"

He shook his head. "She doesn't want to do the chemo."

"Can't blame her for that," Alex said. "Do you want to order dessert? I told the waiter no, but we can always change our minds."

"You aren't annoyed by all the interruptions?" Bobby asked.

She leaned forward, elbows against the edge of the table. "Cancer is scary - especially if she feels alone. I can't be annoyed at that."

He looked at her closely and saw none of her tells for irritation: she was telling the truth. "Good – thanks," he said, nodding briefly.

"And I'm used to interruptions, thanks to the job. It wasn't even a month ago we got that call to jump on a plane to Vietnam – how's that for an interruption?"

"Good point."

"Besides," she added with a smirk, "you get extra points for being a good son."

That was disputable, but Bobby appreciated the thought. He took a deep breath, and felt a bit of his tension dissipate. "So... you're sure you don't want dessert?" He looked around for their waiter.

"No, I'm good. I don't usually have dessert."

"Cappuccino?"

"It'll keep me up too late."

"Then I guess... I'll drive you home." Bobby was grateful Alex had let him change the subject. He caught the waiter's eye and signaled for their check.

"I think we did pretty well on our first real date," she said. "Want to try for two?" She reached across the table. "That reminds me: how many times do we have to go out until you let me drive your car?" she asked, smiling coyly.

"Mmm..." He let her catch his hand. "More than one," he said, and laughed when she smacked his hand lightly.

* * *

On the way back to his car, Bobby would have liked to put his arm around Alex once again, but she stayed a little apart. She was relaxed and animated, so he didn't push for the intimacy.

"How many thousand times have I told you the same stories about my dad's Galaxy 500?" she said, turning to face him while walking backward. "The special wax, the high-test gas..."

"Washing it every weekend, driving upstate... Ford re-introduced the Five-Hundred model recently. Do you like it?"

"It's a good car, but I don't see a resemblance to the old Galaxy."

"That's because you don't have the emotional attachment. Look out – curb." Bobby reached a hand toward her, but she smoothly pivoted to walk forward again, never missing a step.

Now she fell into step close beside him. When Bobby rested his hand on her back, she leaned into him as she talked on, comparing the older and newer models. He pressed a kiss on her hair.

She peeked up at him. "Sorry, I got carried away... as usual."

"You don't have to stop," he said, smiling.

"Oh, I think I've overdone this topic enough for one day. It's not good first-date etiquette." Her arm slid around his waist. "By the way," she said, "I noticed that you didn't answer my question about a second date. Do you want to go out again?"

"Yes." Bobby held her a little tighter. "I do."

"Good – me, too."

"...but I'm not sure when my mother... you know..."

"Yeah, I understand. You'll be with her on Thanksgiving?"

"Mm-hmm." The doctor was trying to schedule the start of her chemotherapy, and had told Bobby it might begin that week, providing her health allowed. Just the thought brought back the taut feeling to his jaw muscles.

Alex said, "Let's leave the Friday or Saturday after as a possibility for us, okay? Or even Sunday. I'll be with my family at my sister's on Thanksgiving Day. I avoid the stores on Black Friday, so I should be free. Does that work for you?"

"It depends on what's happening with my mom, but... okay." He wanted very much to see Alex again, but he expected to spend most of the holiday weekend with his mother. Whenever she started chemo, she'd move into the hospital, and he knew he'd need to be available for her. Could Alex have enough patience to put up with that?

They'd reached his car, and he stepped off the curb to give her back a few inches of their height difference. She rested her hands on his waist.

"If things change with her," she said, "let me know and we'll figure out another time."

Bobby nodded. "Alex, you already know – I told you it's, it's complicated. If you still want..."

"Hey," she said, "look here."

Bobby had been darting his eyes around; he took a deep breath to steady himself, and brought his gaze to her face. She was looking at him earnestly.

"All I want to happen with us," she said, "is to have some down time to relax and have fun together. I think we did that tonight."

Bobby leaned closer to kiss her. He trailed his hands up her arms to her shoulders.

When they slowly drew apart, she smiled and rubbed his chest. "The way things are in both our lives," she said, "there's not a lot of free time. That's not going to change, so let's do the best we can. Okay?"

"Okay." He kissed her again briefly. "I'll probably screw it up."

"I'll probably be way too hard on you."

"We'll probably catch a case and it'll run through the holiday."

Alex pointed a finger at him. "Oh no! No, no, no! We're at the bottom of the rotation and we'll be off duty – don't jinx it."

Bobby gently grasped her wrist. "So, I should think positive thoughts?"

"Yes, because I'm pessimistic enough for both of us."

He knew she was joking, but there was truth behind her words, too. There were many barriers in the way of their relationship. Bobby hoped he had the energy to overcome them.

He must have looked discouraged, because she touched his cheek and drew him closer for another kiss.

Bobby gently massaged her shoulders. "I want to try," he said. If she was willing to put up with him, he'd do his best.

"Good." She winked and asked, "Can we at least keep going out long enough for me to drive your car?"


	5. No simple solution

Bobby pressed his cell phone against his ear as he stared across the squad room. The doctor was outlining the procedures to prepare his mother for her first round of chemotherapy.

"We'll check her T-cell level again today," the doctor said, "and if the results are still good we should start tomorrow, to get the greatest benefit."

"On Thanksgiving Day?" Bobby asked. He didn't want his mother to be treated by second- or third-string technicians. She was averse enough already. "I mean, who's on duty on a holiday?"

"I am," the doctor replied. "I'm taking my time off at Christmas, so I'll be here all weekend."

Bobby finished the conversation and returned to his desk.

Eames looked up from her computer and said, "Have I mentioned how much I love going through emails?" She stretched her neck left and right. "I should do the same as you: ignore everything but the ones flagged as urgent."

"Sometimes I forget to open it," he said.

"No wonder you never replied to my emails!"

Bobby's eyes snapped to her face. "You sent me an email? What, um, when...?"

She held a stern expression for a few moments, and then relaxed into a smile. "Yeah, that'll be the day when we communicate by email."

Bobby nodded and attempted a smile to acknowledge her joke. Would she still be so blithe when he backed out of their upcoming date? Maybe there was an alternative – he'd really been looking forward to being with her when he didn't have to keep things professional.

"So anyway," she said, "I'm nearly done, and then I can get out of here for the long weekend."

He sat down at his desk and fiddled with papers in his binder. "Do you have time after work? I mean, if you're busy it's okay, but..."

She picked up on his line of thought quickly. "Tonight?" Their eyes met and held for a few moments. "Was that your mom on the phone?"

"Her doctor - the oncologist. He wants to start chemo tomorrow. So I thought maybe we could..." Bobby avoided looking directly at her. He began prying open a staple on a stack of papers.

"Why the rush on chemo?" Eames asked. "Is she – is it an emergency?"

Bobby shook his head. "They waited after radiation for her to recover - you know, from the side effects." He ripped out the staple. "But they don't want to give the, um, the... cancer..." It was always hard for him to say the word.

"Don't give it a chance to start growing again." Eames nodded as she finished the sentence for him. She gazed at him for a while, and then stood up. "Come with me." Without waiting for a reply, she took off in the direction of the interrogation rooms.

Bobby took a few deep breaths before slowly following. He didn't want to deal with Eames' anger – or with her sympathy, either. Maybe it would have been better to say nothing now and call her later in the weekend.

She was waiting in the doorway of one of the interrogation rooms. They went in, but neither sat. Bobby stood with his back resting against the mirror.

Eames paced a few steps and then paused across the table from him. "This is what we talked about the other night, Bobby. We both have complicated lives. Your mom needs you – honestly, I think it's a good thing for you to be with her."

He focused his eyes on an empty plastic cup on the table. "I won't be able to get away this weekend. I have to - I thought if – if you're free we could go for dinner."

"I wish I could. I told my sister I'd come tonight to help get her house ready for the hordes. I'm going to stay over with them. But listen, Bobby - you don't have to worry about making it up to me, or any of that relationship baggage crap." He was surprised at the calmness of her expression. "I don't want to play those games," she said.

"Me either," he said quickly. "It's just – I like going out with you. It's one thing that feels good. Normal."

It was fortunate they were on opposite sides of the table, because Bobby would definitely have been tempted to touch her, hold her... He put both hands on the mirror ledge behind his back.

Eames looked a little embarrassed as she shook her hair out of her face. "We don't get a lot of normal, do we?" She swung the door open again, and he heard her inhale deeply. "I'm not going to look at those emails after all. Thanksgiving has officially started for us."

* * *

Eames offered to drive him to his subway stop; he accepted, even though in late afternoon traffic it was likely to take just as much time as walking. She was providing a few private moments together, and he grasped at them. There was no doubt it would be a long time before they managed to go out on their second date.

Bobby spent the short trip listening to the duties Eames' sister had scheduled for her. She found a spot to park only half a block beyond the subway entrance.

"So... I guess I won't see you till Monday," she said, turning toward him. "Will you have anything resembling a turkey dinner?"

He shook his head. "My mom doesn't even like turkey, so..."

"She'll be glad to have you there."

"It's only going to get worse," Bobby said. He leaned across the car's center console to kiss her.

Her hand slid around to the back of his neck. "Mmm," she said against his mouth, "you'd better clarify that statement, because this is definitely feeling better and better."

It was a few minutes before Bobby was able to answer. He brushed his fingers over her cheek as he drew back from their kiss. "You were right, what you said."

Her eyebrows quirked up and he realized he'd opened the door for a witty reply. She said, "You mean about ignoring emails? Or about sweet potatoes being the worst leftovers?"

He rested his hand on her neck, and touched the delicate gold chain there. "About not waiting for things to be perfect."

"...which isn't going to happen," she added. "So we take what we can get – seize the moment, and all that."

Bobby kissed her cheek.

"Like that," she said. "I hope the chemo helps your mom. I know it'll be hard on her – and on you."

Bobby focused on the tiny cross on Alex's necklace. "The doctor says it hasn't metastasized, which improves her chances, but... she has so many risk factors, and there may be interactions with her other meds. Realistically..." He sighed and struggled against the tightness in his throat. "It's probably going to get worse."

When Alex pressed her palm on his cheek he leaned closer again until their foreheads touched. She said, "I wish I could help. I'll light a candle this Sunday and say a prayer for her."

"Thanks." He kissed her one more time and reached for the door handle. "If I can, I'll call you sometime this weekend. Have a good Thanksgiving, Alex."

Bobby stood on the sidewalk as she drove off. He knew he'd need all the strength he could get in the coming days, and Eames had managed to give him a lift, a firm place to stand, a little bit of peace.

He hoped this warm feeling would last.

* * *

**THE END**


End file.
